


Proving the Rule

by kkscatnip (autohaptic)



Series: Getting To Know You [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Community: kink_bingo, Electricity, Established Relationship, M/M, Messy, POV Third Person Limited, Present Tense, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Doing what Frederick does for a living has its advantages when he's dating someone who has a masochistic streak that's a mile wide.</i> Written for kink_bingo's gift basket challenge, "We Have Ways Of Making You Talk", electricity square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proving the Rule

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ingenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenius/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tale of a Modern Thief](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/22260) by ingenius. 



> This is an original fic remix/fanfic for the one-shot fic above. This series covers from the time of their first fuck to the last time they have sex in the original fic, so you don't need to read the fic to understand it but I (of course) suggest that you do, as it'll help you get more out of this series.

Doing what Frederick does for a living has its advantages when he's dating someone who has a masochistic streak that's a mile wide. (In addition to blow jobs and fucking, they've had dinner five times now, and the last one was even in public, so that counts as dating, damn it.) 

The interrogation rooms are full of things that Ashe wants but shows no signs of asking for, and Frederick learns when he brings home the electrical probe and shows it to Ashe before dinner that he absolutely loves being able to put that look on Ashe's face. Surprise and awe, but mostly greedy, greedy desire. 

"Not now," Frederick says, soft, chiding and not trying to hide his own eagerness one bit. "Dinner first."

"That first, actually," Ashe says, in that pushy way he gets sometimes. "I don't want a stomach full of food when you're shocking me with that thing." 

One of the things Frederick's learning about Ashe: he is very good at talking Frederick into deviating from The Plan. Not a bad thing, but Frederick's plan is to tease Ashe all through dinner. 

Not that he can't do it another day, with something that most definitely won't lead to vomiting at all ever. It's just that Frederick's had a guy puke all over him from the probe, and it's not an experience he's eager to repeat. 

Still... "Beg," he says, looking squarely at Ashe, licking his lips with deliberate precision. "And I'll consider it." 

Ashe loves to hate begging, as far as Frederick can tell. He'll bitch up and down the street about it, but he always gets hard whenever Frederick makes him do it. One day he'll figure out whether it's being made to do something he doesn't like or the dirty talk or what that makes that happen, but for now Frederick leans back in his chair as Ashe curses under his breath. 

"Fucking--every time, you're _such_ a bastard. Or do you just like hearing--" 

"I like watching that mouth of yours," Frederick says, perfectly honest. "Your lips are made for begging and blow jobs."

"Mmmm," Ashe hums, a smile twisting his lips for a moment as he looks away and then back at Frederick.

That's one of the rules: if Ashe isn't meeting Frederick's eyes, he's not really begging. "Ask for it, Ashe, or we're eating food first."

"Oh come _on_ ," Ashe growls, all adorable frustration; it normally starts out this way. "I know you want to use that on me, you know I want you to see how high you can turn it up, so there's no need for me to beg."

Frederick just raises one eyebrow at Ashe, keeping the smile off of his face. He knows he can't keep it out of his voice, so he stays quiet.

Ashe stares for long moments, like he can actually win, and finally sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Please." He spits out the word, nasty, grimacing like it tastes bad.

With one hand, Frederick makes a circular motion for Ashe to continue. 

"Please use that thing on me. It's a probe, isn't it? I recognize the shape." 

Actually, it can be used as something to be ghosted just short of touching Ashe's skin, or something Ashe holds while Frederick almost-touches him. He's fairly sure he's going to use it as the former; the latter would mean that he feels the shocks too and he doesn't need that distraction. "It's either. Both, maybe, if you ask nicely enough."

Ashe's eyebrows go up, a little color creeps into his cheeks, and he gets that greedy look in his eyes again. "C'mon, please, that thing is going to be fantastic. You--you'll get to watch me writhe and stuff and it'll be _so_ hot." 

Once again, Frederick makes the _continue_ motion. He isn't trying to keep himself from grinning anymore. 

" _Please_ , hook up the attachments and _hurt me_ , Frederick. It'll be fucking amazing and would you _please_ see how much I can take." Ashe leans forward in his chair now, hands on his knees, his eyes dark with arousal. "I want to take as much as I can before you fuck me. So. Please. Do it."

It isn't as good as his normal begging--Ashe can get a lot more detailed than that--but possibly he's never tried this before. Probably, actually; Frederick's learning that Ashe is woefully inexperienced when it comes to sex. 

Not that he minds it when Ashe tells him afterward that it was his first time doing something, either. First time fucking on the kitchen counter, first time having an awkward handjob in the shower, first time being fisted... he really likes having so many of Ashe's first times.

Whatever else Frederick can say about Ashe and sex, he does have lots of enthusiasm, which is what counts in the end. "Bedroom," he says. "Be naked by the time I get there." 

Ashe is already in motion by the time Frederick says _naked_. He gives Frederick a look over his shoulder, like the tease he is, though. 

Frederick opens up the wooden box again and looks down at the instrument: a cylinder with a power cord running to the box, and another cord coming from the box where it's meant to be plugged in. He knows from using it before that the control knob is on the inside of the box, plus the briefcase full of attachments.

Now that he's looking he realizes that one of the wooden corners is a little bloody. He rubs absently at the stain, counting to ten in his head and then picks up both box and briefcase and heads for the bedroom. 

*

For someone so inexperienced, Ashe has got to be one of the most self-aware people Frederick's ever fucked. He knows exactly how he looks kneeling on the bed, legs spread but his back facing Frederick. Not only that, but he knows the effect that his bare, freckled skin has on the low thrum of arousal that the begging always gives Frederick. Like stroking a fire, and the way he shifts his shoulders, counterpoint to his hips, one hand on the bed as he twists halfway around and looks at Frederick... 

It's all calculated and Frederick does not give a sweet everloving fuck because it's one of the hottest things he's ever seen. He doesn't like twinks because they are so--not like this. Not Ashe. 

"You like to make me wait," Ashe says, teasing, brief smile gracing his lips before he turns back around. 

That is so obvious that it doesn't deserve an answer, so Frederick doesn't give Ashe one. He slips the velcro tie off of the power cord instead and plugs it into the outlet on the far side of the bed, very pointedly not looking at Ashe as he does. 

By the time he's back on the right side of the bed, hooking up the pedal, he lets himself look at Ashe again. He's moving, arching his back a little, shoulders tense, his hand grabbing the blanket; he hates being ignored the way he hates to beg. But he's quiet, which is probably testament to exactly how much he wants this, so Frederick presses a kiss between his shoulderblades and reaches around, squeezing his balls and then his cock before pulling away again. 

Ashe makes a choked noise, but doesn't move, so Frederick rewards him by tangling his fingers in that ridiculous, floppy blond hair and pulling. The shiver is worth it, and the way Ashe follows Frederick's hand before he checks himself and freezes, too.

A stroke from Ashe's neck to his shoulder is all the _good boy_ Ashe gets for now. 

Frederick opens the complicated clasp on the box with the ease of practice--the last thing he needs in the middle of an interrogation is for some prisoner to see him fumbling--and sets the box on the nightstand, then sets the briefcase on the bed and opens its far less complicated lock. 

When he bought it for interrogations, he knew it was a sex toy, but he also knew that it was a torture device if turned up high enough. He's souped it up a bit, too, so it goes higher than the sex toy version.

But the sex toy bit means that some of the attachments in the briefcase are pretty in addition to being painful. Bulbs in various shapes with neon gas in them that fluoresce in various colors, a wartenberg wheel, metal tips that go on the fingers and feel like being cut open. He fits a bulb that looks like a glass stethoscope onto the black cylinder--the wand, they call it, though he thinks of it as a tool, an instrument--and makes sure the pedal is off.

Frederick's tried all of the attachments on himself, so he knows exactly how much pain he's inflicting when he turns the knob on and up to four, kicks the pedal on, and ghosts the bulb from Ashe's left shoulder blade to the base of his spine. 

Ashe gasps, surprised, back arching and head tilting back until Frederick pulls the toy away again. At that point Ashe straightens his spine, fisting his hands and pressing his knuckles against his knees as he drags in a ragged breaths. The electric hum of the tool is the only noise aside from Ashe's breathing.

It's far too much fun to surprise Ashe; inevitably he ends up that much more disheveled. Frederick wants to deconstruct him, pull him apart and see what makes him tick and then use it to make him come over and over and over again. But he's not--Ashe isn't in the interrogation room, and there's a rhythm to this game they play. 

"Please," Ashe says softly. 

His reward is the broad tip repeating the same movement on the other side, buzzing and glowing orange and leaving slightly red skin in its wake. If he weren't as pale as he is, it wouldn't show up at all at this level. Four isn't high--it goes to twelve--and the broadness of the bulb diffuses the shock. 

Ashe doesn't arch as much, and only makes a high noise, not surprise but something like it. "Freder--ah, fuck!" 

Asking for it isn't always required. Frederick ghosts the bulb along the inside of Ashe's arm. He loses himself for a while in the action and reaction, ignoring his own body in favor of paying attention to every little reaction Ashe makes. More gasps, whimpers as Frederick turns it up higher, an outright squeak when Frederick puts on a bulb that is a rake, all pinpoints of delicious pain. 

And more begging. Frederick barely has to pause at all to get a _please_ or a _keep going_ and once a low, breathy _more_ that is definitely not a request in any sense of the word. 

For that one, Frederick leans over and bites down on the meatiest part of Ashe's shoulder. Not that he is really meaty anywhere--the opposite--it's just better than the bone, by far, and the way Ashe's voice goes up high as he moans is glorious anyway, makes Frederick's cock throb in response. "You telling me what to do?" 

" _Fuck_ , I don't _care_ ," Ashe growls, "just don't stop. Please."

The interrogator in Frederick wants to make Ashe eat those words. But normal Frederick, the one who feels like the luckiest man in the world when he gets to fuck Ashe twice in the same week, loves them and how they're so very _Ashe_. Pushy masochist who role plays as a sub.

Normal Frederick wins; he kicks the pedal off before setting the tool aside and crawling onto the bed behind Ashe. As he wraps one arm around Ashe's middle, he presses the bulge of his cock against the line of Ashe's ass and feels the best kind of satisfaction when they moan in unison, Ashe high and Frederick low. 

"You want to know how you look?" Frederick asks, all but growling the words in Ashe's ear before biting down on the lobe, pulling and letting it slip out from between his teeth bit by bit. 

Ashe shivers against Frederick, whimpering, squirming the way that he does. "Please." 

The tension and pressure against Frederick's cock, his chest, and feeling all of that coiled strength that Ashe has are enough to convince Frederick; he doesn't need the please. But he likes it all the same, and rewards Ashe by pinching one of his nipples, his other hand pulling Ashe's hips back against Frederick's. "You're delicious. All bare for me, but you knew that, didn't you? Calculating bastard." 

For a moment, Ashe tenses, but then squirms more, whimpering again, and so Frederick keeps going. 

"Everywhere I shocked you is red. Various degrees. A little, some places, but the rake scorches you, and there's these red lines everywhere." Frederick lets go of Ashe's hip and leans back enough to trace the four parallel lines that start on Ashe's shoulder and curve around to his underarm, then licks the lines, then scrapes his teeth along them. "Feel that? You're scorched. Not quite a real burn; it won't blister. If I turned it up more, you'd have real marks." 

He's not asking permission, not exactly, but this is one thing they haven't talked about yet so he kind of is. Ashe's skin heals well so far, so the burns shouldn't be permanent, but Frederick is so fucking conscious of the fact that he's not going to do anything semi-permanent without Ashe's permission that he can just about taste the need for that permission.

Ashe squirms, panting, leaning his head back against Frederick's shoulder. His whole body moves with the force of his breathing, even his feet, tensing on the inhale and untensing on the exhale. "I get to choose where."

Frederick shakes his head, even if Ashe can't see it. He presses a kiss against Ashe's temple. "I think you're failing to see the purpose of _me_ marking _you_." 

"I get to choose where," Ashe says again, sounding determined. 

Probability says that it's not a bluff; Ashe just doesn't trust Frederick enough to know that Frederick's going to be responsible if he makes permanent marks. "Fuck it," he says, and waits for Ashe to relax, the continues, "It's not worth it if I can't put marks wherever the fuck I want." 

Of course Ashe tenses up again, and Frederick digs his fingernails into Ashe's hips. "Don't act like you regret it," he says, letting his voice drop down low. "Stick by your choice or you don't have any business making choices to begin with." 

Okay, yes, Frederick does know that it's a little meaner than Ashe deserves, but it stings that they've been fucking for six weeks and Ashe still doesn't trust Frederick. Fuck, it more than stings, it hurts, like a dull ache in his chest that he knows isn't heart disease.

Leave it to Ashe to find exactly the right thing to say, though. "Are you done with the electricity? I seem to recall you promising to blow my mind tonight." 

It _is_ what Frederick promised, and he was close to it before he stopped. He rolls his hips against Ashe's, moaning as Ashe does the same and then climbing off of the bed again. Ashe's head hangs forward now, and his shoulders relax for as long as it takes Frederick to attach the probe. It's a rubber cord with a fist-length hollow metal dowel at the end, simple and functional. 

"Here," he says, nudging Ashe's arm lightly. The pedal is still kicked off--no electricity yet. "Hold it, and don't lean against me or anything else." 

Ashe's long fingers close around the metal, his thumb capping the end of the tube, and he lets his forearms rest on the tops of his thighs, wrists and hands dangling between his spread legs. Frederick finds the pose sexy for reasons he can't define, and can't resist kissing Ashe on his shoulderblades, resting his face against Ashe's spine for a moment. He scratches Ashe with his stubble on purpose, grinning at the way Ashe arches his back into it, humming happily. 

"You're so easy," Frederick accuses him playfully, pulls away, and kicks the pedal back on. The hum of the electricity is always louder with the probe, but Frederick's always liked that buzzing sound. 

"Right," Ashe says, or it sounds like that's what he tries to say, but he gets out the _ri_ just as Frederick ghosts all his fingers down Ashe's right and left sides at the same time. In practice it sounds like "Riiiiiiiighh _fuck_." 

Frederick delights in that sound, and runs just one hand down Ashe's left side and then his right. Ashe makes a strangled moan, which just makes Frederick grin even more. Less surface area means more pain, but... he reaches over and turns it up a notch, and then does both hands again. 

Ashe's entire body shudders and he leans forward against the bed, moaning but muffling it in the blanket. 

"Too much?" Frederick asks, kicking the pedal off as he helps Ashe back into a sitting position. It's not more pain than the rake, not really; part of the fun of using his hands is that he can feel every shock as it happens. The pain isn't greater, just different.

But Ashe nods, panting a little. "Too much at once, I think. After the break." 

That makes sense; Frederick worked up to the rake before. He kicks the pedal back on, turns it down a few notches, and lets his entire right hand ghost over the bottom of Ashe's foot. Palm and everything--maximum surface area--and Ashe only gasps a little, though his toes curl. Good.

Next comes Ashe's left foot, and then the right one again, which earns Frederick a moan and seeing Ashe's hand--the one that isn't clutching the probe--tremble before he uses it to grip his thigh. He decides to try both at once, and the way Ashe moans for that is just. If not for the promise to blow Ashe's mind, he'd stop and fuck Ashe right now.

"Fuck, that feels--" but Ashe doesn't tell Frederick what it feels like, because Frederick runs fore and middle fingers down the sides of Ashe's feet, both at the same time. He cuts off into a moan, instead, and stutters out a "ffffuck" in the aftermath. 

Frederick can't resist prompting Ashe with, "How does that feel?"

"Amazing," Ashe breathes, gasping in a few pants and then sighing, shifting a little. "Why did you stop, again?" 

In answer, Frederick runs just one index finger up Ashe's spine, from the cleft of his ass to where his hair gets in the way of the back of his neck. 

Ashe swears and curls back against Frederick's hand, but he doesn't drop the probe and he doesn't ask for it to stop. It's as good as a go-ahead as any he'll get, he knows, and is careful not to touch Ashe as he traces from behind Ashe's earlobes down his neck, across his collar bones, to his nipples. 

Again, Ashe swears, but the words are shakier this time, f-f-fuck and s-s-shit-dam-m-mn, you a-a-assho-o-ole, so he waits for Ashe to open his eyes before he hovers his fingertips over Ashe's nipples. He could, if he wanted to be an ass, leave his fingers where they are for long enough that it burns Ashe for real, but he's not that much of an asshole when he's not at work.

He ghosts his fingers down Ashe's sides as soon as the skin starts to scorch, abs and down the tops of his thighs before Frederick pulls away so he won't fall on the bed and close the current. It's many breaths before Ashe grinds out what sounds like a heartfelt, low, " _Fuck_." 

Frederick can't resist. "Request or statement?" 

"Fuck _you_ ," Ashe growls, though breathily. 

Request, Frederick decides, and leans in to lick a few wet stripes up Ashe's back. There's no shock because that's not the way that electricity play works, with the proper touching, but when he ghosts his fingertip over the wet area Ashe pretty much convulses on the spot, not even managing to get out a curse. 

The wartenberg wheel is like a pinwheel, but with metal spikes; Frederick slides it out of its pouch and bites his lip, gleeful, as he runs it oh-so-carefully up the fleshy part of Ashe's back. 

Ashe does convulse, doesn't curse, and ends up curling forward onto the bed again, trembling finely and moaning wordlessly as Frederick doesn't let up. 

It feels like he's being cut open, and that's something else they'll have to try, when Ashe trusts Frederick more than he does right now. Frederick kicks off the pedal when it gets to the point where Ashe is barely even making sounds anymore--just gasping and shaking and not letting go of the probe. He crawls onto the bed, curling over Ashe, wrapping his arms around him, pressing kisses against the back of Ashe's neck, his shoulder, his cheek. 

He wants to say something, but it's the first time that Ashe has been like this and he's so fucking afraid of saying the wrong thing that he almost can't breathe. But Ashe doesn't need any words, and his gasping calms down and his shaking calms down and he starts wiggling and grinding back against Frederick in the fuck-me-now way. 

"You," is all Frederick can come up with, but reaches down and pulls the probe out of Ashe's hand, just in case he trips the pedal accidentally, tossing it backwards off of the bed and then digging in his pocket for lubricant. 

Slicking up his fingers and sliding them into Ashe is simplicity itself, and the way Ashe moans brokenly is just--Frederick can spend the rest of his life listening to it and not get tired, he's pretty sure. Why would he _want_ to stop is the part that is beyond him. 

How could he ever quit making Ashe make all these delicious sounds, quit making Ashe lose his mind, push back against Frederick's fingers and, when he's ready, Frederick's cock. "S-stop," Frederick finds himself saying, grabbing Ashe's hips, but he can only hold on with the hand that didn't have lube on it and that's not going to stop the way Ashe tightens around Frederick, maddening with him pressing back and back. 

"Stop," Frederick says again, surer this time, pressing a hand against the center of Ashe's back and putting his weight into it so that Ashe is pinned. "Just. Stop, for a minute. Fuck." His cock throbs, and Frederick tells himself he is not going to come two minutes into fucking Ashe, no matter how awesome the foreplay was. 

"Having-- _ah_ ," Ashe cuts off into that delicious noise, and starts again, "Having _trouble_?" 

On _trouble_ he tightens around Frederick so much that Frederick just about goes cross-eyed. Fuck it, he doesn't care how fast he comes, as long as Ashe does too. Still keeping Ashe pinned with one hand, he finds Ashe's hand with the other and forces it down, makes Ashe's fingers wrap around his own cock.

Ashe doesn't need more direction than that; his hands begins moving immediately and the tightness lets up and Frederick fucks him. 

He has no clue how long it lasts, but by the time he's clawing at Ashe's back, rocking Ashe with the thrusts, he's covered in sweat. It drips off of the end of his nose, off his chin, down his chest. Makes his grip slick as he pulls Ashe back against him, and he can't even hear the sounds he's making.

All Frederick hears is Ashe, every little gasp and moan and those trembles and, best of all, Frederick's name. It's broken and stuttered and said like a curse, _Red_ , fuck. Frederick doesn't even care about the nickname, because he's coming too, grabbing Ashe's shoulders and pressing in and in and wishing he didn't have to bother with condoms. 

It's that thought that proves, more than anything else, that Frederick's got it bad. Not bringing home interrogation tools against company policy, not the way he wants to earn Ashe's trust, but that: the idea that he's going to keep using a condom, but he doesn't want to. He wants to be messy as fuck and come inside of Ashe and eat it out of him and...

"Fuck," Ashe breathes under Frederick, sighs in a contented way, and squirms. "You're heavy." 

Yeah, well. "It's all muscle," Frederick says, but he's already pulling out, giving Ashe's ass a sharp slap and aiming the condom for the trash can. 

Ashe rolls over with this _look_ in his eye, playful and beat all at once. "I noticed," he says, and offers Frederick his messy hand.

If this is the only messy Frederick can get at the moment, he'll take it. For now.


End file.
